


Russian roulette

by whataboutmyfries



Category: Coast to Coast - lumosinlove, Sweater Weather - Lumosinlove
Genre: I am literaly begging you to read this on tumblr, M/M, Multi, mafia boys are BACK babyyy!, pls I cant properly convey the atmosphere on Ao3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 04:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30117312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whataboutmyfries/pseuds/whataboutmyfries
Summary: Cubs but corrupted
Relationships: Leo Knut/Finn O'Hara/Logan Tremblay (lumosinlove)





	1. Chapter 1

Logan could still remember the day it had happened, the defiant fury in his friend’s eyes as he’d gone down, guns blazing 

Logan still remembered it, blood splattering his arms and face, his mouth curved in a deadly smirk as he shoved Logan out of their way, going down, guns blazing, winking at the brunette as he dived into the fray.

Logan still remembered the primal fear that ripped the scream from his chest, his arm numb from the kickback of the M4. He still remembered the screaming darkness that had taken over his head after. He still remembered _him_.

It was the memory of that night, a job gone wrong that had him working himself to pieces, returning to the sparring ring day after day, week after week. The mere thought of it pulling him from sleep with the sharp edge of nightmares. The what if’s and if only’s shoving his mind into a rabbit hole of unending misery.

Logan huffed in frustration, shoving down the cool rage that threatened to send him over the edge. He closed his eyes, exhaling through his nose, roughly shoving his hair off his forehead. The sweat dripped off his brow as he leaned against the punching bag, flexing his fingers against fabric wrapping his hands. 

Even through the wrappings, he could feel the gentle throbbing of the rage and sorrow that had him back at the punching bag day after day after day. He looked down at his knuckles. Shit. That was going to bruise beautifully tomorrow. He sighed, walking over to the backpack on the far end of the room to get his towel and a drink of water. 

Logan hefted his pack onto a shoulder, heading over to the sparring area to clean up, unrolling the fabric from his hands as he did so. He examined his knuckles, his hands a tapestry of bruises. He couldn’t remember the last time they hadn’t been a splotchy purple-blue. 

The door slammed open, and Logan instinctively ducked to the floor, his hands going for the gun in his backpack, his posture relaxing a little when he saw who’d walked in. 

“What the fuck do you want, Nate? He grumbled, tugging his t-shirt to rights, glaring angrily at the floor as he did so, his cheeks warming at his aggressive reaction.

Nate rolled his eyes at Logan’s attitude, raising an eyebrow at Logan’s reaction to his presence. He leaned against the door, drumming his fingers against his bicep “He’s here, sir, the rookie’s here.” 

~

It took Logan all of ten minutes to shower and get dressed to meet Finn in their office. He shook the water out of his hair as his quick steps echoed in the marble hallway. The palatial mansion was HQ. He lived here, slept here, ate here. They were his family, the lions, they’d taken him in after Wyatt had died and had stood by him through every damn thing he’d been through. Regardless, it was _home._ It had become Logan’s home after— Logan growled, shoving the intrusive thoughts away.

Finn met him halfway to their door, casually tugging the cuffs of his shirt to rights. 

Finn was impeccably dressed as always, looking really damn good in that white button-down, the gold chain on his neck dipping into where he’s left it unbuttoned at the neck. His bespoke trousers did wonders for showing off his legs, the gold belt buckle matching the golden rings glinting in the sun.

Logan swallowed.

“So, the rookie’s coming in today. The only thing we know is the father sent him. Be on your guard.” Finn said, raising an eyebrow at Logan to make sure he understood.

Logan nodded, cracking his knuckles as he accompanied Finn into their office, the redhead making a few calls to get extra security detail around the house. Dons couldn’t take risks, no matter who sent their visitors. 

Logan shook out his hands, sucking in a calming breath before collapsing onto his chair. 

“You have to meet Dubois at the Excelsior tonight. We got a tip he’s been skimming the funds.” Finn said absent-mindedly, his mind more occupied with reading some file. The Excelsior was one of their biggest casinos, three floors of opulent revelry. And Dubois was the sleazy good-for-nothing who ran it for them.

Logan grumbled, flipping open a file of his own, the name Dubois emblazoned in sharp, black letters on the cover. Being a Mob boss wasn’t all it was made out to be, and Logan never thought he’d get used to it. He could scarcely remember how he and Finn had come to build the Lions, one of the biggest crime syndicates in the world, second only to the snakes; a family of vicious, rabid psychopaths who cared for nothing and nobody, dispatching their targets with gruesome efficiency. 

Finn had a suspicion the snakes had been doing recon work at the Excelsior and had told Logan as much. Considering that Logan had to deal with the slimy manager, anyway, he thought he might as well look into the matter. Finn looked at him over the gold rim of his glasses, as though reading his thoughts. 

“Take Potter with you, ask him to get two of his best with him,” Finn said, referring to their head of security. 

Logan huffed, about to shoot back a retort about how he was _perfectly_ capable of taking care of himself _thankyouverymuch_ when there was a knock on the door. Nate leaned against the wood, a smirk playing on his lips.

“He’s here.” 

~

The rookie as it turns out was no rookie at all, rather son to the most infamous pickpocket and street magician of all time, Wyatt Knut. The man had stolen and pickpocketed thousands of dollars’ worth of goods and cash in his time, there was even a rumour going around that he’d been involved in some of the biggest heists of the era, driving his worth up to millions of dollars. 

And this was his son. Sitting in front of him, idly flicking a folded sheet of paper between his fingers, making it disappear and then appear again, his leg bouncing under the table. He looked nervous, his eyes flicking around the room, drinking up the opulent mansion around him. He snapped to attention when Finn cleared his throat, sitting up straighter in his chair. 

“The name’s Knut, Leo Knut. Lizard sent me.” 

Logan’s eyes widened at the nickname. There were very few people in the world who knew it, and this baby faced blond kid sitting in front of them sure as hell didn’t look like someone who would. The fact that he did calmed Logan’s suspicions. This was real. He wasn’t kidding.

Logan felt more than saw Finn’s interest pique. The redhead leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table. The tension in the room was palpable, and it took every inch of self-control in Logan’s body to not stiffen, sit up straighter, show he was on his guard. Let blue eyes make the first move. Logan was in charge here, not him. 

Leo’s eyes dipped to the folded note in his hand as he vanished it into his sleeve and brought it back. He sucked in a breath, calming his nerves before raising his eyes to the two men sitting before him. 

“Lizard said to come to you if he didn’t return or communicate his….being alive within four days of that mission.” Leo braced for the confusion and chaos that was going to follow his next words. 

“He had a plan to take down the snakes.” 

~

Logan’s jaw dropped, his hands going slack from where they were crossed across his chest. Lizard had what?!? Granted, he was one of their best reconnaissance men, but this seemed a stretch, even for him. 

Finn, ever the diplomat, had kept a straight face, not a hair out of place. It was only through eight years of being his friend that he noticed the tension and suspicion radiating off him. 

The redhead cocked an eyebrow. “Oh? And do you have any proof of this….. _plan_?” 

Leo grinned, the simple expression lighting up the entire room.” I thought you’d never ask”

He raised his slender fingers, pulling a flash drive out of thin air, setting it down on the table before him. “It’s in three parts.” he nodded to the drive. “The drive, a……” He waved his hand in the air, trying to find the right words. “Map? With the targets and the blueprints and an encrypted folder on his laptop.” 

Logan barely registered what he’d said. The second Leo has flicked the drive out from between his fingers it was game over for him. Logan was mesmerised. He couldn’t stop staring at those hands, long thin fingers flipping the note in and out of sight with hypnotic movements, drumming on his thigh, gesturing broadly as he spoke. 

Finn seemed to have noticed, pressing his thigh against Logan’s under the table. He froze at the contact, Finn’s warmth seeping into him through the fabric of his jeans. Shit. Now was not the time. He shook his head, clearing his throat and focusing on the task at hand. 

Finn leaned back in his chair, his finger steepling under his chin. “And you’re just trusting us with this information? It’s been a month, why haven’t you approached us sooner? What’s in it for you?” 

Leo’s smile disappeared, shadows dancing behind those blue irises. “Lizard was like a second father to me. I’ve known him since I was a kid, he and my dad were friends.” He let out a shaky breath. “And when he didn’t return from that raid….I wanted to get revenge. I wanted to hurt anyone who dared to so much as lay a hand on him.” Leo met Finn’s eyes. “I was…hurt for a long time after his death, couldn’t figure out how to deal with the loss. It’s the reason why I’m only here now. And as for trusting you with the information…” He trailed off, putting a piece of paper on the table. 

Logan realised it was the same folded note that had been weaving in and out of Leo’s fingers as he’d spoken to them. The paper was worn, the edge soft in a way only repeated use could make them. Finn’s eyes flicked to Leo before he picked it up, glancing at Logan as he opened it. 

Logan leaned in, reading over Finn’s shoulder. In a familiar, stocky script it said: 

_‘Sun, I’m going out on business. It’s the usual. Same as always, If I don’t communicate in 4 days, ask around for Logan Tremblay and Finn O Hara, Tell them about mission troy. They’ll know who I am, say Lizard sent you -P’_

Logan’s hands shook, and he stuffed them into his pockets, still reading the note, scouring it over and over for clues, anything that would tell them that he was still alive— though he knew he wasn’t going to find anything. His eyes caught on the first word. ‘Sun’? Logan wracked his mind, trying to find any reason why Lizard has called him that. Realisation struck and Logan looked over Leo, sizing him up. 

Leo ‘the Sun’ Knut had was famous for his brilliant smile, those dimples distracting even the most stubborn of men while he swindled them out of their money. Bright as the sun and just as blinding, they said. Logan allowed himself a smirk at that. Like father, like son. 

Leo didn’t back down from his stare, raising a blond eyebrow at the intense look, cocking his head to the side. A shiver of excitement ran through Logan, bigger men had backed away from that look of his, yet this lanky _child_ didn’t so much as falter. Interesting. 

Finn rested his elbows on the table, ever the portrait of unruffled grace. “How do we know this is real?” He asked, nodding his head at the drive sitting on the table. 

Logan could practically see the effort it took Leo to not roll his eyes. The blond shrugged, crossing his arms on the desk. “Believe me, or don’t. It’s your loss. I have my orders and if you aren’t willing to provide the resources, I’m sure I’ll find other people who are.” His gaze sharpened to a flinty glare, “I’m just trying to do right by a friend. He asked me a favour and I will not let him down” He nudged the drive forward with a long finger, the little black device sitting in the middle of the table. “Help me or not, it’s up to you, but don’t you fucking _dare_ get in my way.”


	2. Chapter 2

Leo turned his icy glare on Finn, then Logan, rising gracefully from the chair. “In case you decide to help me, ask around for Leo Knut. News has a way of reaching me.” He stalked to the door, his long legs carrying him elegantly across the room. 

The click of the doorknob opening sounded too loud in the silence of the office, and Leo looked over his shoulder at the two men sitting at the desk. 

“ _Capocrimine_ , you may want to do a better job of watching your surroundings.” Finn and Logan both looked up at that, only to find Finn’s belt and Logan’s watch dangling from Leo’s slender fingers. Finn’s eyes sparked with savage delight as he walked over to Leo, plucking their things out from where Leo held them. 

Leo smirked, and Finn took a step forward, standing closer than was absolutely necessary. He was standing so close Leo could smell his cologne, gunpowder and danger and crackling fire. The distraction had given Finn the opening he needed as he held a knife against Leo’s ribcage. The engraved blade resting on the vulnerable skin with the slightest pressure; gentle enough that it wouldn’t so much as leave a mark, but hard enough that Leo knew all it would have taken was a casual arc of the blade to have him bleeding out on the floor. 

Finn’s hazel eyes met his. “And _you_ should really do a better job of sizing up your targets.” 

Leo swallowed, a delighted shiver running down his spine. He tipped his head to the side and smiled, raising his hand to within an inch of Finn’s face. Finn’s eyes simmered when Leo flicked a matte red throwing knife between his fingers, the business end of the sleek weapon pressed to Finn’s collarbone 

“Good enough for you, Don poisson?” 

~

It had been a good thirty minutes since Leo had left, and Logan could not stop thinking about him, the way the Italian language had rolled off his tongue, the NOLA accent softening the r’s ever so slightly. 

Logan couldn’t forget how the shocking thrill of seeing his Rolex hanging on those infernal fingers had tugged deliciously at his gut, his eyes simmering with the gleam of a challenge. He couldn’t forget the way he’d slipped into accented French, grinning slyly at Finn, the tip of his canine pushing gently into those plush lips. 

He knew Finn felt it too; he’d always known what Finn was feeling, his mind almost as familiar to Logan as his own. It had been eight years. Eight years of pain and sorrow and undying loyalty that had got them here. 

Logan could see the ways Finn’s walls dropped the second he closed the door, his shoulders dropping the tension they had carried, his body going loose in that feline way that had logan reeling. He turned around with a grin, hazel eyes sparkling with predatory glee. 

“That was… something else. _He_ was something else.” Finn said, the slightest growl lacing his words as he walked over to lean on Logan’s desk, flipping his knife between his fingers. Logan couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from those hands, achingly familiar and devastatingly beautiful. Finn’s hands were covered in tiny scars, the small incisions coming from years of handling knives and daggers. It always amazed Logan how those hands could be so gentle yet so dangerous all at the same time. 

“—Hands, those goddamn hands. Did you see what he was doing with that piece of paper? He really is Wyatt’s son. We’ve got to go see him doing his thing sometime.” He looked down at Logan where the brunette was lounging on his chair.

“I saw you staring, you know, but _damn_ who wouldn’t? that man’s hands are magic. Literally.” 

Logan laughed, shoving Finn’s knee. “Oh, shut _up_. And get off my desk, I have work to do.” 

Finn grinned, tossing his knife in the air before catching it and throwing it at the dartboard on the back of their door. 

Bullseye. Just like every other time he did that. 

Logan looked away, shaking his head at his own foolishness as he went back to reading Dubois’s file and accounts, already thinking of his meeting with the useless sleazeball. He’d have to breach the subject carefully, he’s had many a jackrabbit back in the day, his words clumsy and his fists more than ready to rise to the occasion. Finn had just sighed the first time it had happened and helped him pull out the obscenely long shards of glass, stitching him up and helping him bandage it up. The very next day he’d invited Logan to come watch him deal with an associate. 

It was everything Logan had thought he’d never be; cool, effortless charm and assertive words. He’s had the man begging on his knees in a matter of minutes and had left him to Nado and Kuny for further _interrogation_. 

And so Logan had gone with him, again and again and again, studying the way Finn leaned back in his chair, the power immediately shifting over to him, the way he carefully selected his words, the predatory gleam in his eyes.  
  


And he’d become the wolf he’d kept tamed for so long. 

“D’you want me to do some recon on his software as well?” Logan asked, shutting the file, making a mental list of the all the accounts he’d just read. Finn looked up, considering for a moment before nodding his head, going back to his laptop. 

Logan didn’t really remember where he’d picked up hacking, but it was a mix of private forums and his friends. He’d never enjoyed it quite as much as being in the field, but the rush of adrenalin when he finally broke through the last wall of code was another high altogether. 

It took Logan an hour or so to locate the offshore accounts Dubois had been siphoning money too. It seems Pieter was a very rich man in Singapore— sorry, _Paul Prevost_ was. Logan grinned. 

Gotcha. 

~

Logan tugged at his gloves as he entered the casino, the lights and music hitting him like a wave. He waited for a second, letting himself get accustomed to the assault on his senses. 

And then Logan _becomes_. 

He becomes the feline, aristocratic mob boss, he becomes the caporimine of the lions; he becomes the lethal, calm storm everyone expects him to be. And he steps into the fray. 

He wove through tables, smiling at associates and regulars, nodding his head at a couple of security guards he knew. He appeared unruffled, stopping at tables occasionally to watch a game, or grabbing a drink from the bar. 

He took his time getting to Pieter’s office, knowing that the man already knew he was in the casino. Logan had a crackling energy that affected everyone around him, either making them grin manically at him or run in the opposite direction. He had a feeling he knew which kind Dubois was. 

He looked behind him to see Kuny and Nado stalking through the crowd inconspicuously, their earpieces invisible in their ears. Nado caught his eye and Logan jerked his chin to the service door, giving them a loaded look before sauntering over to it. 

Logan set his glass down on an empty table, patting a passing waiter on the back as he walked into the muffled calm of the service corridor. His shoes sounded too loud against the walls, his eyes scanning the place for all possible exits while he looked for his target’s door. 

He looked behind him, knowing that Nado and Kuny would walk in shortly and made sure to factor them into his plans, planning to get them all out safe if things went undesirably. 

The mousy little man opened the door, tripping over his feet as he saw who stood in the doorway. 

“Mister Tremblay! F-Fancy seeing you here!! C-come on in!” Pieter stumbled over his words, bumping into no small number of things as he walked over to the desk. Logan smiled, and there was not a shred of warmth in the expression. Dubois knew. 

“Take a seat, sir! Take a seat! Would you like some wine? Gin perhaps? We can have someone whip up a cocktail for you if you’d like.” Pieter said, the words rushing out of his mouth in a single breath. He wrung his hands, then shoved them through his balding yellow locks, then stuffed them into his pockets.

Logan was going to enjoy the hell out of this. 

He leaned back, propping his feet on the table, one ankle crossed over the other. He looked at Dubois, raising an eyebrow when the man squeaked in fear. Logan nodded to the chair across from him. “Sit.” 

Pieter’s swallow was loud in the room as he walked over to the table, gingerly settling down onto the plush velvet. 

“So _Paul Prevost_ , Singapore treat you well this time of year?” 

All the colour leeched from Dubois’s face, his hands beginning to shake. 

Logan grinned maliciously, the power of being _him_ setting into his bones, rushing through his blood like a sweet, dark melody. Let the games begin. 

“Paul must live a good life, hmm? Pray tell, what do you you do with twelve acres of land, I’ve been meaning to buy some myself.” Logan said, pulling his beloved handgun out of his jacket, spinning it around on the table. 

“P-please, please sir, I-it was a mistake, It-it w-won’t happen again, I-I-I—” 

Logan stood, towering over the man now kneeling at his feet. He flicked at an invisible speck of dust at his shoulder, looking for all the world like an unbothered gentleman readying to leave.

“You what?”

Dubois started sobbing, grabbing at Logan’s shoes fruitlessly, crying shaky pleas and bargains into the carpet. Logan merely stepped away, taking a drink from the glass of wine someone had left for him on the coffee table. 

He lifted his chin, staring down his nose at Dubois grovelling on the ground. It would be the last time the sleazeball made that kind of mistake. 

He knocked his heel against the door twice, Jackson and Evgeni stepping into the room immediately. 

Logan looked them both over, checking to see if anything had happened outside, Jackson gave him a subtle shake of the head and he nodded, shoulders dropping a little in relief. He looked back at Dubois, still on his knees on the carpet. 

Logan patted Nado and Kuny’s shoulders, walking out of the room with a feline grace. He threw a look over his shoulder, smirking ever so slightly. 

“You know what to do.” 

~

capocrimine: don, mob boss, also known as the godfather. 


	3. Chapter 3

Logan sighed, his hair still damp from his shower. He’d always showered after a job. It helped him feel cleaner somehow. He kicked his feet up onto the table, texting Finn about his whereabouts and what he wanted for dinner. He paused, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. 

He received Finn’s reply a few minutes later; _Meet me outside, there’s something I want to show you._

Logan perked up at that, shopping his gun into the back of his jeans, tugging the oversized hoodie down over his ass to cover it up. Hr grabbed his coat, snagging Finn one of those cola lollipops he liked so much. 

He met Finn by the car, a sleek black Lamborghini. The redhead leaned against the matte black door, his red curls slipping over his forehead as he texted somebody on his phone. 

“Wanna tell me where we’re going yet?” Logan asked, quirking an eyebrow as he sauntered over to his….friend. Finn’s head snapped up, his expression melting into an easy smile when he saw Logan walking over. 

“Not yet. Get in.” Finn said, ducking into the driver’s seat. Logan walked over to the other side, his lips quirking up in a ghost of a smile when he saw the milkshake Finn had got him. The man in question looked over, huffing a small laugh when he saw Logan looking. 

“It’s chocolate. With extra whipped cream and chocolate sauce on top.” 

Logan’s heart stuttered. Finn had noticed. Not just noticed, but _memorised_ his order. He shoved away the wave of overwhelming feeling that threatened to swallow him whole and picked up the cup. His eyes fell shut at the first sip of cold against his throat. 

He’d always gravitated towards the sickly sweet. Tooth-rottingly sugary cakes and coffees and pancakes. Maybe it was to fight the bitter darkness that roiled inside him, maybe it was because he liked the juxtaposition of a vicious criminal digging into a tub of ice cream, or maybe it was simply because he’d liked the sugar. 

He was glad to be the one sitting in the passenger seat. He had a perfect view of Finn, a hand resting casually on the wheel, the other resting on the windowsill, scarred fingers tangled in the mess of curls. Maybe Logan liked sweet because of the way the sunlight hit Finn’s eye’s the brown looking like molten chocolate and warm coffee, the way the rays danced through his hair making it look like spun sugar, those lips gleaming like— Logan snapped out of his thoughts, choking a little on his milkshake, He turned away resolutely, turning to fiddle with the radio instead. He leaned forward, reaching out for the volume button when he felt something jab into his thigh. 

Logan frowned, leaning back to pull the lollipop from his pocket, nudging Finn’s shoulder with it until he laughed and plucked it out of Logan’s fingers. 

“Thank you, Tremz, I love these. Unwrap it for me?” Finn chuckled, the infernal candy hanging between his fingers like those cigarettes he occasionally smoked. 

Logan rolled his eyes, grabbing it and ripping the plastic off. “A Big boy mob boss, but he still can’t unwrap his own lollipops. What would your associates say?” He teased, putting the candy into Finn’s waiting mouth. The slight brush of his fingers against his friend’s lips made his heart clench, and he pulled away quickly, his cheeks heating up. 

Finn laughed, flicking his tongue around the sweet, pulling the car into an underground parking lot. Logan raised an eyebrow, turning to look at Finn. His eyes crinkled as he pulled the keys out of the ignition, straightening his sweater as he stepped out of the car. 

“Wait and watch.” 

~

As it turned out, Finn had taken Logan to a park, the easy winds of spring spreading the smell of churros through the air. Logan smiled as Finn walked them both to the churro truck, grinning at June as he ordered their usual— churros _drowning_ in Nutella. 

Logan zoned out of Finn and June’s animated conversation, choosing to ignore their not-so-subtle flirtation in favour of looking around the park. It was a gorgeous day; people walked their dogs or lounged on benches, and Logan idly mused about what life would be like if it were so bloody _normal._

He sighed, blocking out June’s tinkling laugh as he ran a hand through his hair. Sometimes he wondered what his life would’ve been like had he not been thrust into this one. It was his father’s fault, really, taking loan after loan after loan from the snakes to keep his family alive. Logan almost scoffed aloud; family? More like drinking habit. Marius had tried, he really had, but it hadn’t been enough. What little savings they’s had after Marius had lost his job had quickly sputtered out, leaving them with little to no choices. And damn him if Logan were to _ever_ allow his sisters to sell their bodies on the streets. 

And when money from the loans had run out, well, the snakes had come to collect a debt. 

Logan rubbed unconsciously at the scar tissue on his thigh, cringing a little at the memory of Crouch junior’s knife tearing through his leg, skin and muscle ripping under the vicious blade. Logan carried the scar proudly. He had fought like hell to keep his sisters and his mother safe, and damn if he wasn’t proud of the badge he wore as a testament to the fact. 

“Thanks, Junebug! We’ll see you around!” Finn called, nudging Logan with a shoulder. “Shall we?” 

Logan swallowed the hurt that rose in his throat, smiling at Finn as he grabbed a churro. 

“Tell me where we’re going yet?” Logan asked, licking a spot of Nutella off his pinky. 

Finn smiled. “Almost there.”

Logan’t interest piqued when Finn led him to a crowd gathered seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Logan raised an eyebrow at Finn.

The redhead winked. “Consider it an early Christmas present”

“Harz, it’s _May_ ” 

Finn waved him off, shoving a dripping churro into his mouth “Go see” he said, the words a little muffled through the food. 

Logan skirted through the crowd, finding his was to the front. 

Oh.

_Oh._

Logan’s heart all but dropped out of his chest. He’d never been so glad for his penchant for subtle disguises. His baseball cap pulled low, the aviators hiding most of the top half of his face. He was almost positive he wouldn’t be recognised. 

But then Leo looked up.

And the whole world stopped. 

Leo didn’t stop his movements for even a second, his fingers flipping the cards swiftly, his lips never stopping the sweet sweet illusion he was spinning for the poor bastard about to lose his money. 

But he looked Logan dead in the eye and conned the man out of a full 150 dollars, grinning like the devil as he did it. The man walked away down 150 bucks and a watch. 

“How about that gentleman there? Would you like to try, sir? Maybe lady luck will favour you this fine evening” Leo grinned, nodding in the capocrimine’s direction.

Logan smiled, letting a little of the lion show as he eased his way out of the crowd to join Leo in the middle. 

“How much would you bet, sir? 50? 100? 150?”

Logan slapped 200 dollars on the table. 

“Well well well,” Leo raised a brow. “Let’s play.” 

  
~

Logan tried very very hard to keep his gaze on the cards, but how could he when Leo’s nimble fingers darted around them looking ever so tantalising. Logan was utterly mesmerised, and by the time Leo asked him to find the Lady, he hadn’t the slightest clue as to where she was.

Logan picked the card closest to his hand. He’d never had a chance in hell, anyway. 

Needless to say, by the end of it, Leo had an extra two hundred dollars to his name. As Logan got up to walk away, he heard Leo call out from behind him.

“Sir! You forgot something!”

He turned to find Leo holding his wallet up with two fingers, a mischievous glint in his eye and a shit-eating grin on his face. 

Oh he was _good._

Logan smiled, stalking back to him. “Ah, stupid of me. Thank you.”

Leo just winked at him as he walked off, their fingers brushing for the fraction of a section when Logan took his wallet back.

He spotted Finn amongst the people immediately, grinning like a damn fool as he walked over to him. Logan opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again. 

“I know.” Finn said. “I know” 

The quiet joy in Finn’s eyes damn near killed Logan, and it was an effort of self-control to not kiss him right there. No. He was impossible. Logan could never have him. They were mob bosses. It would be hell to pay if the world ever found the one thing he’d save above all others. 

Logan ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the brown curls. He frowned at the scratch of paper under his sleeve and pulled the fabric up to find a card underneath. His breath caught, and he turned it over to find the queen of hearts sitting there.

Oh, this was going to be fun .

Logan’s grin widened at the message scrawled across the lady with thick black ink. In Leo’s slanting script it read;

 _Better luck next time_.

**Author's Note:**

> So. Here's the thing. For the people who were with this fic from the start, they know that this was a whole Thing(tm) on Tumblr. I had little clues and moodboards and things up way before I posted the actual thing just for the suspense :) (I also keep forgetting I have an Ao3 at all so I forget to post here, but I would recommend you see all of the other goodies and things for this fic on my Tumblr!  
> you can find me on tumblr here!


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